Mystérieux
by Oathkept
Summary: [Misao x Aoshi] (AU) Aoshi Shinomori, a private investegator, is hired to solve a murder case. During his first night there, he encounters the strangest girl he's ever met. Could romance be a possiblity when anyone could be the criminal? Who is the liar?


He sighed for the millionth time that evening, ruffling his dark hair as he concentrated on the notes before him. His wintry eyes narrowed at the small scrawling, mentally taking note on how badly his nearly illegible handwriting needed correcting. Finally giving up on the annotations, he glanced out the vehicle's window at the overcast sky.   
  
Today was most definitely **not** a good day. The woman whom hired him to solve the murder case was a _very_ disagreeable woman -for one- and the small hammer-wielded men in his head seemed to be having a contest in which who could hit the hardest.

The multi-millionaire's home came into his view, causing him to sigh yet _again_. Mumbling a thank you to the cab driver, he began to ascend the endless driveway. Fine, it wasn't _endless_, but it was a definitely synonym of it. His reverie fluttered to a stop as the cherry wood doors flew open before him.

"Mr. Shinomori, do you realize you are **thirty** minutes late?"

How did she know he was there? Sure, he was working for a psychotic _prophet_...no big deal. Aoshi shifted his weight to his right foot, his lips pursed together in a thin, slanted line.   
  
"Please excuse me, Miss Takani, but traffic was murderous."   
  
The woman placed a slightly snobbish pout on her blood red lips, crossing her arms over her thick sweater. Tilting her head slightly to the side, she narrowed her chocolate brown eyes, her eyebrows wrinkling together. Letting a sigh escape her, she waved her hand in consent.   
  
"Very well then, Mr. Shinomori. Our meeting will be postponed to tomorrow at eleven a.m. sharp. Do not be late. Your room is up the stairs at your left, the last room on the right." She turned on her heel sharply, storming off to the set of stairs in the north. He quirked an eyebrow at the preppy woman, shaking his head as he shifted the weight of his bags.   
  
"Don't mind her. She's always like that."  
  
The voice was feminine and dark, slightly seductive as it reached his ears. He searched the entrance room with confused eyes, only to find nothing. Shrugging mentally, he mumbled under the weight of his things, deciding to drop them in his room as soon as possible.

Thus, Aoshi climbed the small set of coffee colored stairs, his bags seeming to gain fifty pounds or so. The hallway wasn't very crowded, only having four rooms, but too spacious since it was so long. A ghost of a smile reached his face as he found his makeshift room, bombarding in to throw his bags on the bed. This, unfortunately, did not happen due to a squeak reaching his ears.

A girl stood in the middle of his room, frozen in the middle of her dusting. Pinkish hues stained her porcelain skin from the intrusion, her fingers now playing with the bottom of her oversized sweater. Her ocean sprayed eyes moved from the black sweater to his icy ones, causing her blush to deepen.

"I am very sorry, Mr. Shinomori...I suppose. Nobody informed me that you had arrived, so I was finishing my dusting and I was about to change the sheets when..."

"It's alright."  
  
Her cheekbones seemed to darken _again_, but this time at the deepness of his voice. It amazed her, how beautiful it was, she'd never heard anything like it in her life. All of the male visitors (which were Megumi's friends) had squeaky voices...except Sanosuke...but he didn't really count. Biting down on her lower lip, she nodded lightly, walking towards the door.   
  
"Sorry, again. I'll bring you fresh sheets...these are moth eaten."

As she departed, Aoshi merely thought. Megumi did not mention any children...or servants for that matter. This girl was quite kind, being much quieter and more polite than Megumi. Yet, she seemed slightly..._strange_. He shrugged, throwing his things in the corner of the room. A smile reached his lips as the weight departed, stretching the kinks from his muscles. And, again, this girl interrupted.

"I'm afraid I could only find the blue ones...they're a little big for this bed...you don't mind...?"   
He turned to the girl again, tousling his black locks of hair as a sign of discomfort. "No, they're fine...You don't have to change them. I'll do it myself, but thank you."

He watched her eyes darken and become downcast, her hands smoothing the stack of bed sheets that now sat upon the mattress. The woman's ethereal teeth chewed on her carnation lips for the second time that night, causing him to wonder if it was a habit of hers. His muscles tensed as she suddenly met his gaze with dark, storm colored eyes.

"The servant must do as the servant is told, Mister Shinomori. Wouldn't you agree with that? After all, the servant is merely an item, insignificant and only needed to serve one's orders...don't you have the same opinion...Shinomori?"

Her voice was shadowy and icy, matching the one he had heard in the foyer, making him wonder about her sudden attitude change. His mouth opened to reply; yet nothing came as he watched her change the blankets. A grim smile came to her lips as she folded the periwinkle ones under her arm, her gaze meeting his.

"Good night, Mr. Shinomori."  
  
She paused, running her index finger over her smooth lower lip. "Oh, and be sure to lock your door and windows."

Hurriedly, she left, leaving him to wonder.

What a strange girl.   
  
He sat on the queen-sized bed tiredly, yawning silently to cease his thoughts. The lamp beside him came on, the timer blinking once before processing when to turn it off. He drew his fingers towards his bangs, running his hand over his rough features. His eyebrows furrowed together as he fell onto the bed, his legs dangling off the width of it. He sat in silence for god knows how long before he decided to check out the home he would be living in for a while.

And a while was _too _long.

Aoshi picked up his notebook from his small book bag, finding his favorite black pen. Mentally recalling the note he had made to improve his handwriting, he began down the long hallway. He decided he disliked the dreary looking hallway and atrium as he came towards the front doors. Several stairways stood before him, causing him to wrinkle his nose in disgust.

The house was simply _too_ big for only two people...unless there were more inhabitants in the Takani house. Deciding he'd rather not mess with the winding staircases, he entered a room to his right, finding a library. It was much lighter than the rest of the gloomy home, drawing his attention immediately.

A soft, cream color stained the walls, a huge bay window on the front wall. Tall, cherry wood bookcases lined the walls in several maze-like directions; each genre marked with a sign containing the neatest handwriting he'd ever seen. A small, marble fireplace was mounted against the west wall; masculine leather chairs scattered about.

Yes, this was his favorite room in the Takani house already.   
  
He smiled faintly before sitting in one of the surprisingly soft chairs. Pressing his notebook onto his knees, he hunched over the lined paper, clicking the end of his pen rapidly. Notes...he **despised** these notes. Yawning once more, he began to record his progress on the case, unaware of the blue tinted grey eyes that watched him from the Literature section.

The woman clad in the dark sweater sighed lightly, running her fingers over the spines of the books, her eyes grazing over the decimal numbers she had written on the lower edge. She paused for a moment over a rich, brown, leather-bound book, 818.43 upon the label. It looked out of place, on that shelf, enabling someone to wonder if it _really_ belonged there. Running her fingers through her dark hair, she picked up the book, sitting in the crook of the bookcases.

Reaching into her sweater sleeve, she pulled out a calligraphy pen, and began to write.

No one knew, never would...or so she thought.

Author's Notes: My first Misaoshi in a long time. Please do tell what you think. I won't beg you to review or discontinue my Fanfiction if I do not receive reviews. I write for my own enjoyment only, I could care less whether you reviewed or not. Yes, R & R does stand for Read and Review, but I like Read and _Run _as long as you read =)  
  
I have many thoughts on this fanfiction, so I may actually finish it! I hope this fanfiction piqued your interest.


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